


Given in Good Faith

by theskyeskye



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M, Mild slash, Request Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskyeskye/pseuds/theskyeskye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between two who hardly knew each other, the little things piled up and broke a silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Given in Good Faith

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the following prompt that I recieved on my tumblr account:
> 
> "How about a fic where it's Bilbo trying to court Thorin in 'the hobbit way' and Thorin just doesn't get it (and so ends up wondering and asking 'what is wrong with the hobbit?'. It could be any rating, although I suppose that the fic would be rather cute."
> 
> Which I really didn't follow this prompt exactly for a few reasons. 
> 
> Namely, I didn’t want to compromise the characterizations of these two, too much by getting uber cutesie, hahah. 
> 
> Plus that’s not entirely my style. Frankly I suck at it. Don't ask me for cute, I am incapable. I know I know. Boo hisssss.
> 
> OH. Also.
> 
> This would take place during the movie, to specify, not after, and it has nothing to do with my Courageous Acts series.
> 
> Leave some love with a Kudos/Comment. I love hearing from you guys! Fuels my writing fire!

He'd noticed immediately when things began to shift between them. Thorin was not blind, nor was he the type to make a mountain out of a molehill... Well. Not _always_... Details, details... So he didn't call attention to it. He acted as if nothing had changed, that nothing was different, and carried on.

He noticed the way the hobbit had begun to gravitate closer to him, ride closer to him, roll his bedroll nearer to him. It, really, had been no cause for alarm. They had begun to bond, he supposed. What other explanation was there? They were just _little things_. They were of no concern, and hardly something that required addressing. Not at first...

But the little things began to stack up.

Bilbo would eat less, offering what was left of his portion of every meal to Thorin, who often made sure the rest of the company was well fed before looking after himself. It was always done so casually, ' _Here, I'm finishing with this, I don't eat as much as you Dwarves,_ ' always some muttered excuse. But the look in those dark eyes, the furrow of those brows, it was an expression of concern. So Thorin refused to turn him down. He always accepted, calmly, graciously, with a silent nod of thanks. It made his chest tighten unpleasantly to wrap his lips around the same spoons Bilbo had been using, pretending to not see the way the hobbit watched him, making sure he ate it.

Bilbo would fret more, looking after every cut and scrape he received  no matter how big or small. From a nick on his cheek when a stray branch struck him, to a cut on his hand received while fighting their way through the wilds. Bilbo's little hands were quick to grasp him and look him over, assessing the damage, and taking care of it. Thorin didn't like this strange worry that had settled over the halfling's shoulders. He didn't like how it made his own worry for the little one increase. 

Bilbo would gaze at him, too long, too lingering. He would duck his head and hide away, not wishing to be caught. The apples of his cheeks would flush when Thorin spoke to him in thanks. He would strive to be useful just to be praised. It wasn't like when the others worked hard to please him. This was different, it came from a place of longing, rather than devotion. It left Thorin feeling raw... It was so strong and unwavering.

It was a frustrating scenario. What could he do? Why the change? Bilbo was becoming more trouble than he was worth, but Thorin couldn't imagine sending him away. For many reasons, the idea was out of the question. But day by day the changes came, little incriments, little things that couldn't be brushed off or ignored.

The little things became too much for Thorin, and so out of a molehill, a mountain was made.

_"What is it that you want from me, Bilbo Baggins,"_ Thorin grabbed the little hobbit up by his lapels one evening in the privacy of the darkened forest, their company not quite far off, but far enough that no one heard the thunk of hobbit against tree-trunk. Bilbo gasped, startled by the sudden assault, his hands moving to cover Thorin's wrists, grasping at them but the gauntlets kept him from closing fully around them. 

Thorin was a solid mass, difficult to move, difficult to get away from, and Bilbo looked as if he'd been peeled open and exposed under that hard, pale blue gaze. It was so piercing, flashing in the moonlight, leaving Bilbo floundering for an answer.

"I-I don't want... Want anything from you," Bilbo rushed the words out in a low whisper, looking toward the camp, still seeing the glow of the fire through the brush, but not quite catching sight of the others. The glance away, the tone of voice... It made those words feel like lies to the dwarf royal.

"Look at me, hobbit!" Thorin hissed, shaking the little man and urging him to meet his eyes again. Bilbo looked scared. Thorin knew what fear looked like in this man's eyes, he'd seen it before, he'd likely see it again, and he realized that what Bilbo was scared of now...

Was _not_ the wilds, trolls, orcs, goblins, or death... _But of him_. Of his wrath. Guilt coiled like a viper and struck Thorin, making his throat feel pinhole small and he slowly released Bilbo, lowering him to the ground. Bilbo's arms and fingers scrambled against the tree as he got his balance, peering up at Thorin with wide eyes, his mouth screwed up in a nervous frown. He looked ready to run away, to dash into the safe and waiting warmth of the circle around their fire. 

"Easy..." Thorin's voice was low, rough, but soothing, he held up a hand, motioning for the Hobbit to steady, his other hand reaching, grasping his thin shoulder, " _Eeeeasy._ "

Bilbo relaxed, just slightly, and for that small mercy, Thorin was grateful. Bilbo's fingers were moving to fiddle with the hem of his corduroy coat, picking at the slowly wearing fabric that had looked much nice at this journey's start. 

"What is the meaning of all that you do for me? Why do you do it? It is not required of you," Thorin spoke calmer now, gentle and coaxing, watching the other's face closely for signs of fear or trepidation. Bilbo took a shaking breath and shook his head, looking away from Thorin's eyes.

"I know it isn't... Isn't my job, or a requirement but I do it because... Because you look like you need it," Bilbo confessed quietly, his cheeks flushing up again. Thorin's hand relaxed and slid down along the hobbit's upper arm, his demeanor changing, opening slightly in the wake of the hobbit's honesty.

"And I do it because I want to... That's all," Bilbo added. Thorin took a step back and reached up, rubbing the side of his neck and grimacing slightly.

"I should apologize, Master Baggins, for my rudeness," Thorin said quietly, but no apology had time to come. Bilbo was shaking his head and smiling slightly, though it was a nervous smile.

"No, it's understandable. I perhaps should have been a bit more _forward?_   I suppose different cultures do things differently," Bilbo's words brought confusion back to Thorin's troubled mind. Just for a moment he wondered if the hobbit meant what Thorin thought he did. But the implications of that statement were not questioned. There was a time and a place for clumsy questions and this was not one of them. Thorin took a step closer and leaned down, pressing his lips to Bilbo's forehead. Firm and lingering, a sign of anointment, of acceptance, and of affection.

"I shall try to receive your gestures with grace," Thorin said, lips brushing the hobbits brow, and his tone soft and apologetic. Bilbo ducked his head away, his shoulders rising to his ears as he laughed a quiet, breathy, nervous laugh. His cheeks were blushing rouge and Thorin wanted to touch them and see if they were soft like flower petals... But he didn't. There was a time and a place for fleeting touches often shared between two who were... 

Thorin was _not_.

"Then I will continue to give them so long as you'll allow it," Bilbo uttered quietly, blue eyes lifting and catching starry light, "And I hope that is for a _very long time_."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave some love with a Kudos/Comment! <3


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